Stay with Me, in the Firelands
by AoZ
Summary: A child's war game. Reapers joining the chaos the child Earl brings in his wake. A Demon plays the loyal butler to his every beck and call. But when an undertaker with more plays than they imagined turns the tables of the score, a young woman of uncanny simple beauty is thrown into the fray. What will the Demon choose, in the end? His past and future, or his next feast? (Spoilers.)
1. Chapter I

_So, a certain friend of mine hooked me onto "Black Butler". And I've always been fascinated with mythology, and the infinite ways to interpret it. So, here's a new project I'm playing around with. Head's up- I'm following the manga plotline. So expect a slooow story, haha! I'll post at the beginning of every month, unless circumstances (ie: slow manga updates or increasingly inflexible real life schedule) interfere. Anyway, enjoy guys! _

_(This is only for fun- not for gain or to be some epic perfect tale.) _

* * *

_**Disclaimer:**_

_I own nothing but my OC(s). Everything related to Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso. And all songs quoted/helped to inspire this fanfic are property to their rightful artists. I intend no copyright infringement. (The title of this fanfic was based off the song "Firelands", sung by Tracey Hewat.) _

* * *

_**Genre:**__ Spiritual/Horror_

_**Rating:**__ Mature (for gore, language, and potential sexual moments)_

_**Synopsis: **_

"_Sebastian Michaelis" is nothing more than a fake identity; a toy in a child's war game. Formidable deities, who call themselves Reapers, continue to cross paths with he and his current "master". Along the way of this current game, an undertaker with more aces up his sleeve than predicted turns the tables of the game's score. But when a young woman of uncanny simple beauty enters the fray, where will the demon prioritize his focus? On the past interlinked to his future, or his next meal? _

* * *

**Stay with Me, in the Firelands**

**I. **

_**I Cannot Believe**_

* * *

Nestled in between buildings and shadows, a small business with an overbearing sign shone ominously to those unfortunate passersby who took to London's backstreets, where the rats and Underground crimes crawled mercilessly. It was also where a company of five found themselves one afternoon. A man of Chinese origin, an upper-class woman robed in lavish red, a child of the same class, and two contrasting butlers.

Their business was theirs, and they had (to the dismay of the woman in red and her graceless servant) no choice but to seek the answers they lacked from the Undertaker.

This set in action, however, a string of events and meetings the butler in black was not prepared for…

* * *

"So, where are we?"

"You don't _know_!? Then what was that all about!?"

"It's a funeral parlor run by an acquaintance of my lord's."

"'_The_ _Undertaker_'…?"

Chatter from outside brought the buried head of a young woman up from her work. It was rare for the employer and owner of the small business to frequent guests, unless for a very specific type of work. And from the rowdiness outside, it seemed as though her boss's "guests" were not here for that line of service. Putting the record file she was finalizing down, she turned to the door leading to the main room of the business front.  
The funeral parlor, as the one man so simply explained to the party, was divided into two, maybe three, rooms. The main room or lobby, the office (doubling as miniaturized kitchenette), and one door that remained almost always locked. The woman in the office didn't see the need to inquire about the locked door. However, her eyes watched the door leading to the lobby. There was only one place the Undertaker frequented while at work…

"Are you there, Undertaker?"

Giddy hollow cackling resounded from a hollow coffin near the office doorway. "I thought I'd be seeing you before long."  
The coffin's top creaked as the Undertaker pried the top off from the inside. "My lord, it's _so_ lovely to see you! Do I finally have the pleasure of fitting you for one of me coffins, today!?"

And just like that, the atmosphere shifted from discomforting to simply awkward. '_Ah well_,' the woman mused, stifling a chuckle behind her knuckles. '_I would expect no less from him. He's always been a bit odd- but sometimes that's what makes him charming._' She flipped the folder shut, pushing her way from the desk and out of the chair silently. '_He at least keeps the job far from droll. However…_'

Her eyes widened as a familiar sensation wracked her body from its very core.

* * *

"- I know why you came. With just one look, I can _tell what's on your mind_." A fit of soft giggling followed. "Since the Earl went out of his way to visit me, I'll _certainly _do _everything I can_ _to_ _help_."

Hesitation. "You know something?"

"Now, now Earl." The Undertaker drawled. "I have only one requirement. '_A first rate laugh_.' If you do, no matter what you want to know, _I'll tell you_…!"

* * *

'_And only _he_ would be able to emit such a fit of laughter from him._'

Eyes pinched together from absolute exasperation, but the woman laughed lightly to herself, climbing down from a countertop, successfully having obtained a new tin of tea leaves from one of the many upper cabinets.

* * *

The Undertaker's breathy chuckle subsided enough for him to speak. "Please, take a seat. I'll make some tea…"

'_I had a feeling he would…_' With a sigh, the young lady from the office finished pouring the tame black tea into five white china teacups, placing varying amounts of sweetness to four of the five cups. '_He's going to scare them with his gimmicks. Might as well show a bit more hospitality… They did pay his asking price, I suppose. Besides, I could use a break from his filing._'

With hands delicately gloved in ivory satin, she grabbed the silver tray and made her way into the lobby with haste.

Uncertainty hovered above the small group as they watched with looks of disdain and repulsion as the Undertaker began pouring a weak looking brew into beakers. But all their eyes flickered to the now open door, and the newcomer holding a tray with a white china set. And when she smiled their way politely, the woman in red and her presumed butler nearly buckled in relief. The man with Asian-inherited bone structure smiled bemusedly, while the child quirked his head and frowned. As for the other butler, the one dressed in black…

The woman set the tray down on the large coffin with the beakers. "_Undertaker_, you cannot serve something like tea to guests in those beakers of yours, I've told you that already." Hard eyes from the man clothed in black watched her every move, and she was well aware.

"Hehehe, sorry dear little one. _Bad habits_, you know firsthand about _thooose_…"

She brushed it off with a wave of the hand. "It matters not. Now this tea is of the black variety, and rather tame in flavor- nothing exotic to it. Three of the cups have only a light amount of sweetener." She pointed to the cups as she spoke.  
"This one is for the little Lord, as I've heard mentions of your liking of sweets- I hope you do not mind." Delicately she handed the child his especially sweetened drink.  
At her own leisure, she turned to the butler in black. "You don't look like the type to particularly enjoy anything substantially sweet. I didn't bother adding sugar to yours." Her smile could rival his own characteristic grin; sickeningly sweet and fake.

"What about _me_ deary?"

Quick as can be, she snatched the beaker still clutched in the Undertaker's hand (a much larger glass than what the teacups could ever hope to hold) and gracefully poured the man a glass. "Because we ran out of chinaware." She reasoned simply. The same smile never faltered.

"Forgive me," the child was frowning, his mouth a thin line of contempt behind his tea. "But who _are_ you? I've never seen _your_ face around this city, let alone in the country."

"How rude, how rude of us!" The Undertaker cackled. "She's an acquaintance of mine. Far back we go."  
The young woman laughed airily. Grabbing a handful of her baby-blue skirts, she curtsied low. "Forgive us. My name is 'Abbie', Little Lord."

* * *

"Sorry for intruding, Undertaker." Young Ciel acknowledged as he lead the way through the exit.

The white china clacked together as nimble fingers stacked the empty dishes onto the tray. The Undertaker waved a giddy goodbye as the last of the group scurried out the door, leaving "Abbie" to clean up. In no time all cups, beaker, and teapot were accounted for. Her eyes flickered to her boss.

"'Jack the Ripper', eh?" her laugh was hollow.

"Indeed, _indeed_. That fellow's been keepin' us busy of late." Undertaker grinned her way, reclining back against one of his bookshelves.

The dishes on the tray jingled as she walked. "And the Queen has taken it upon herself to hire a _child_ to crack the case."  
The tray hit the countertop without damage done. "I'll _never_ comprehend the humans and their thought processes."

Long finger nails tapped together bemusedly; a wide, indecipherable smile stretched over the male's scarred face. "Most of us cannot. Yet we are intrigued by them and their short existences. _All of us_." Undertaker chortled merrily. "Even you, deary. It's why you always come back."

The woman frowned thoughtfully, lips pursed. Silently, she removed one of the gloves from her hands deftly, the material hitting the counter with no sound.

Undertaker stared at her backside from where he perched, taking in her reaction with a maddening beam. Her eyes did not stray from focusing on the black _black_ fingernails contrasting prominently to her light colored flesh.

* * *

_**Author's Endnote: **_

_And there you have it! Chapter I of __**Stay with Me, in the Firelands**__ complete! _

_It's purposefully broken and disorienting for a reason. I won't give details away~ Especially since I'm following the manga's plot more than the anime. (However _what_ "Abbie" looks like will be explained more come the following chapter, but the real description and understanding of her figure/personality will be explored as this tale kicks into higher gear later on.) _

_**Next Chapter:**_

_The butler in black returns to the Undertaker's place of business… _


	2. Chapter II

_In honor of Valentine's Day (and because I have no life other than commitment to endless homework), I present to you guys (who actually are following this- yay!):  
Chapter II!  
Dialogue. Not a lot of action. Just…hints and character interaction. A little bit of sexual tension maybe? (It's a treat, take it! I was originally planning on posting this March 1st...)  
_

* * *

_**Disclaimer:  
**I own nothing but my OC(s). Everything related to Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso. And all songs quoted/helped to inspire this fanfic are property to their rightful artists. I intend no copyright infringement. (Song used here: Firelands, sung by Tracy Hewat.)  
_

* * *

**Stay with Me, in the Firelands**

**II.  
**  
_**Can You Tell Me  
**_

* * *

The wooden door of the storefront creaked, clattered, and groaned as it was forced open, only to slam closed behind the butler of the Phantomhive estate. Tall and foreboding, he was a silhouette against the shadowed wood. His eyes colder than black ice, yet their red-brown nearly crackling like dying embers. _He was not happy_.

Abbie's head turned, peering over her shoulder, knocking loose several strands of her light nut-brown hair from the loose bun she'd been wearing it in that day. "Yes? Can I help you Mr. Michaelis?"

The black butler's eyes narrowed further. "I've been ordered by my young master to do some reconnaissance." He stepped away from the entryway, moving farther into the shop. "It appears I've finished early, and can spare a bit of time before I must return to the estate."

"That's all very interesting," the woman acknowledged with an air of nonchalance. Closing the door of an old cabinet with a creek, the heels of her shoes clacked poignantly against the step stool as she repositioned herself to stand on the floor a small distance from the butler. "But that doesn't answer the question, does it?"

"I suppose not."

Slender hands perched on curved hips. Her eyes tightened at the corners as she retaliated. "Then let me try again- _why are you here_?"

The butler's eyes sparked as Abbie's impatience grew. "Perhaps you could spare me the same answer, _Miss Abbie_."

Seconds ticked by, the sound of an old grandfather clock marking the passing of time. Finally, her face broke into something akin to humor and play. "I suppose you win this round, _Sebastian_."

She turned on her heel, collecting another stack of perfectly tidied files to put away in another set of cabinets. Sebastian swept the documents from her arms, putting them away- for his body towered over hers by a good five or so inches.  
"Any luck on the case of Jack the Ripper then?" She inquired of him, after a silent admonishing for his handling of secure and private documents. He brushed her scolding aside, watching her from over his shoulder.

The cabinet door shut quietly. "It seems the Viscount of Druitt is the best suited match."

"Hm." She perched herself at the Undertaker's unoccupied desk, long loose sleeves wrinkling as her arms crossed over her abdomen.

One of his thin brows quirked. In a few short strides Sebastian stood before her, bent down and arms on either of the outsides of her well covered thighs. "If there's something you're thinking, I'd very much like to _hear_ what it is." Head bending down, his lips ghosted the free strands of her hair. "_Enlighten me?_"

Unfazed, her arms uncrossed, allowing for her gloved hands to trail up his wrists. She spoke airily when her hands halted at the bend of his elbows. "There's nothing more to say. Not that you yourself can't figure out, anyway."

Sebastian, disgruntled but also a bit bemused, sneered. His forehead came to fall at the outer edge of her shoulder; the skin of his forehead and his black hair feathering like silk across her bare flesh. He noted the color and stitching of her dress- mint as the main palette, with ash and cream flowers to embroider the material. Her head dropped a smidgen, one hand vacating his lower arm to toy with an unruly strand of hair from his head. The core of his masculinity hummed in approval when she shifted. His left hand moving to trace the flesh of her collarbone, eyes barely peeking from behind the combined veil of their tresses. Her neckline swept low, allowing him to greedily soak up the view of her sun-kissed peach flesh. Although the knowledge that other male eyes wandered over her with hunger disgruntled him, Sebastian thought nothing more of it.

Slowly he pulled a hairsbreadth away. Eyes lidded and mouth sultry with a youthful pucker. "Whatever you're real reasons for being here are, I know you won't reveal them to me."

Her brown _autumn brown _eyes glimmered when he spoke. Silent laughter wracked her body from her abdominal core, but he stilled her with a stone-cold gaze.

"You put me at ill-ease for being here."

She pouted playfully, withdrawing all forms of touch between them. "You don't _enjoy_ my presence here?"

"I did not utter such a thing." He sighed. "Stubborn girl, you're intent on being the end of me."

"If I'm a nuisance, then _you're _a killjoy."

The clock chimed loudly, briefly silencing Abbie and Sebastian both.

Sebastian withdrew, bowing stiffly and retreating at a march to the storefront door. "I'd best be on my way then. I've come to say what I intended." One of his gloved hands grasped the old metal knob firmly.

"Michaelis, wait."

His red eyes glanced her way, his unruly black hair masking a portion of their intensity.

Abbie's brown irises flickered in the shadowed light of the small main lobby. "Be aware of green eyes. You know of whom I speak."

Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk of utter amusement. The game had just taken an interesting turn. "_My lady_," he bowed, and left swift as a hunting raptor.

"_Heeheheeheheehee_."

"How much did you hear?"

The Undertaker swept gaily from the doorway of the office. "Enough, enough, I do say, deary." He grabbed the cookie jar on the bookcase behind his desk. "Can you be so sure the puppy's butler can crack the clue before the next one?"

Abbie traced the choker of beaded pearls around her neck absentmindedly. "There's no guarantee about the timeframe they're working in. I simply warned him of a risk he needs to be cautious about."

"O_ho_." The Undertaker munched on his snack of dog biscuits. "And why do _that_ deary? He's not such a complex entity. What concern is he to you, should he survive?"

Her lips quirked at the notion, a sense of secret knowing dancing deep in her dark pupils. "What concern indeed…"

* * *

_**Author's Endnote:**_

_Second chapter complete. Not much going on, just a little bit of steam, plenty of exasperation, and an almost redundant question. I know there isn't much in action. That's coming later, I promise! (Although not for another few chapters… Go read the manga guys~ That way you can start guessing as to what's going to happen and when…!)_

_**Next Chapter:**_

_A funeral, and the off-putting tension between them. Sebastian's loyalty lies with his next meal. But where does _hers_…? _


	3. Chapter III

_Chapter III is up now! This one has more dialogue, but more character interaction all around. Once again, I'm dodging a lot of main components. Why? Because I have an exciting idea for later down the line. ;) _

_It's also a longer chapter this time around- so be happy…? :)_

_Anyway, wow! I'm so excited people are actually following this! I hope you guys stick around for the long haul. :) And I hope I do not disappoint! (Although I am far from perfect...)_

_**Disclaimer:**_

_I own nothing but my OC(s). Everything related to Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso. And all songs quoted/helped to inspire this fanfic are property to their rightful artists. I intend no copyright infringement. (Song used: "Skellig", Loreena McKennit)  
_

* * *

**Stay with Me, in the Firelands**

**III. **

_**The Bells Call All to Mass**_

* * *

It was the very early morning, when daybreak just peaks over the horizon. The chime of the old grandfather clock echoed lonesome in the otherwise silent shop of the Undertaker. For days now, much of London too mirrored such a bleak atmosphere. News spread more rapidly than a raging wildfire that Baroness Angelina Dalles had suddenly died. But only a few short days following the sudden tragedy, her funeral was planned and ready. The Undertaker was quite pleased, but had she been more disfigured, he'd have been outright gleeful. To commemorate his perky demeanor, he insisted his lovely office worker to dress for the occasion.

* * *

"It wouldn't be right if you weren't dolled up for the occasion, deary!"

Abbie eyed her employer with a questioning look. "I did not know the woman. What right do I have to even be attending _her funeral_?"

The Undertaker grinned. "Since when do you women need reasons to be pretty? Now up you get!"

He thrust a wide-neck black lace gown into her arms, shoving her into his office, and shut the door behind her with a loud click. "Besides, I have a favor to ask- and it would do well that you look the part of a proper woman close to the upper-class."

Stripping down to her undergarments, Abbie paused- huffing at his request. "You couldn't have simply _asked_ me?"

"Heeheehee. It's more fun this way- besides, now you can't really say no, now can you?"

"…You have a point, unfortunately." The Undertaker silently laughed, listening to hesitant rustling of the new dress as the girl made herself appropriate for the event.  
"What task do you require of me?" She finally asked, tapping on the door, signaling for him to let her out.

"It's really quite simple, but you'll be seen by the attendees, if only for a brief time." He explained. He gave her room to move, watching her back to make sure the ribbons were properly tied and tidy. "The puppy will be arriving late today I do so guarantee."

"Oh?"

The Undertaker sat her down at his usual chair, pulling back her hair and pinning it for her. "I need you to escort him to the entrance of the church."

Abbie frowned, turning her head to stare at him. Several thick strands of her hair were knocked loose from his hands. "That's all?"

"Aye my dear." His smile was soft. "A pretty dolly like you, now gowned in mourning black? Highly appropriate. Once yer at the doorway, just let him be on his way."

"It sounds much too simple."

He cackled heartily. "It is, _it is_! But appearances and social conventions, even _we_ cannot be disengaged from the remedial." He placed the last pin in her hair, handing her a handheld mirror to see his handiwork. "What a pretty pretty porcelain you are. This'll do just fine." He grabbed a few soft brush and a palette of makeup, dabbing the bristles of one into a foundation for the lips. "Your flesh is perfect as is. Your lips and eyes? I can make them _pop_."

"Oh joy- I always wanted to be compared to a child's fragile toy."

"Sit prettily for me and help me out today, and you'll receive a few extra days off."

She eyed him skeptically. "You swear?"

"Aye!" He giggled, switching to a thin brush and black goop. He smeared the faintest line over her top eyelids. "There. A mourning doll- you look the part."

Abbie tentatively took the mirror again, and eyed her reflection curiously. "In life or death, you definitely know your way around beauty."

Long, gentle fingers danced over the top of her hair. Suddenly, a pale red spider lily sat perched behind her right ear.

"In honour of the late Madam Red." It was a simple reason. And it worked for a porcelain doll who was to be seen associated with late Baroness's only nephew, in any form or matter.

* * *

Three children were seen playing on the sidewalk outside the church grounds. One of the boys noticed quite the gathering. When the oldest did not have the answers, silent as the numerous graves that he was responsible for, the Undertaker swept in to save the lad from further criticism. It wasn't long after the Undertaker explained the significant importance of the event taking place within the church, that a carriage driven by a familiar man in black swept by.

Waiting by the steps, Abbie approached the stilled carriage as Sebastian helped his young master out from within. Without speaking a word, the woman curtsied, placing a black-lace gloved hand between the child's shoulder blades, whisking him up the shallow steps.

"Thank you, Miss Abbie."

To her surprise, though she did not show it from her perfectly neutral expression, she was not expecting the young Earl to thank her. Abbie bowed lightly again as the boy made his way down the stretch of the church- one of his aunt's most recognizable scarlet gowns billowing behind him as he marched. All eyes had been watching the silent beauty and the Queen's puppy-dog. Mixed emotions filtered into the air…most especially over the red _red_ dress the child Earl carried.

Sebastian approached, making not a sound as he stood to the other side of the frame. Both he and she watched the boy- how he held his head high with the pride of the English-bred noblemen. How he draped the gown over his kin's corpse. And how he shed not a single tear, despite an internal grief that had to be raging deep within his little body's core.

"Despite the crime she is no doubt guilty of," she murmured under her breath. Sebastian heard her clearly. He took her by the elbow, tucking her arm into his, guiding them both back down to the carriage where the Undertaker was lounging against the flank of one of the horses. The latter's grin was wide and giddy. "Despite it all, he still grieves, yet he will not show it. Such a complicated cycle."

"Indeed indeed." The Undertaker agreed. He clacked his long fingernails together, humming thoughtfully with his head reclining to the horse's back. "He won't crack. _No no_. Appearances to keep for his leash-holder."

Sebastian gave a simple one-shoulder shrug. Although the thin smirk of his lips gave way to the indifference. "It is inevitable. They all will die. It is simply a matter of when. Why mourn over what is already predestined?"

A pause followed, Abbie looking straight up into the face of the black-clothed butler. "_Humans_. They really are such fleeting creatures with the potential for unmatched trivial complexities."

"_Heeheeheehee_. Very good, _very good_. I knew you knew as much deary, but the _butler_ seems to know it too! _Heeheehee_."

Sebastian's face gave only the slightest grimace at the continuous laughter from the Undertaker. "The young master," he continued, looking back down to the woman linked to his arm, "will not show weakness. He's a master game player. He'll only play what need be played."

She sighed, her eyebrows slanting while she simpered. "You and your games…"

The Undertaker hooted merrily, giving a good pat to the poor horse's flank. A breeze, meanwhile, bustled through the city streets, stirring up loose debris. As it danced fleetingly over the church grounds, it stirred up loosened flower petals, blowing them up and into the funeral inside. The petals danced and settled among the attendees, raining down upon them like a physical manifestation of the emotions the entire situation wrought. The breeze continued outside, knocking the spider lily from Abbie's hair. She never made to grab it, and when both men reached for the flower, she took both their wrists in a gentle grip, shaking her head. They watched it drift away, instead. It flitted and fluttered, only to settle unpretentiously on the cold stone floor of the vast entryway arch.

* * *

It was done and over with. The crowd had scattered once the casket touched the dirt of the hole specially excavated for Madam Red. Only a few lingering bodies remained; namely the Earl and his Chinese based associate.

"So…" Lau began after a bought of silence at Angelina's grave. "You never _did_ inform the Queen of Jack the Ripper's true identity?"

"I didn't find it necessary." Ciel blatantly remarked. "Besides, London is now free of the Jack Ripper."

Lau stood thoughtful, his hands still tucked into his sleeves. "That means you, will steadily fall into the mud. Or quicksand- whichever you prefer."

The boy whipped around, unimpressed and unamused.

Lau's lips quirked in humor. "Even if you step towards a place from which you can't return, you choose not to reveal that_ you're screaming for help_ to other people, yes? You cocky little Queen's dog." He bowed lightly. "I also hope that I will not bring you any trouble, Earl. I will try to keep things with myself _tidy_."

The Earl scoffed, tugging his top hat back into its proper place on his head. "If that opium that you import from China is regarded as an intoxicant, it's only a matter of time before regulations are made. Police won't ignore the opium dens you Chinese merchants are running if it turns out that way, will they?"

"If that happens, I will just have to come up with a new business idea." Lau shrugged. "My interest in this country is _far_ from exhausted." He leered. "The same goes for _you_…Earl."

As he, too, departed, Lau bent down, whispering into the young lord's ear. "I _do hope that_…you'll _show _me _many more_ interesting things."

Lau continued on his way, knowing quite well that he was being monitored much like an owl silently hunts its prey. It did not dwindle, as he said his goodbyes to the approaching female employee of the Undertaker. His case wasn't helped in any way when he lingered to brush his lips to her gloved knuckle.

He was amused though, when she showed no sign of distaste or flattery. Instead, she easily brushed him aside, nodding politely, and maneuvering her way to the boy. "It is ready whenever you are, Little Lord."

The child simmered, although he did not sass her. "_Sebastian, let's go_."

* * *

"Undertaker, I hear you're finished?"

"But of course!" The Undertaker grinned from what could only be pride. "As expected, I gave her a _beautiful_ little burial. Take a look."

On a simple gravestone, were etched the words:

'_Mary Jane Kelly,  
1863-1888_'

The butler was surprised. "The final victim of Jack the Ripper?"

Ciel gave his servant a curt nod. "It turns out that she was a foreign immigrant. No one came forward to claim her corpse."

"That's why our kind Earl here gave her, a nameless prostitute, her own grave." The Undertaker, from behind the boy, chuckled with a grin. He poked the boy's cheek when he protested to the remark of his kindness.

"I…" Ciel's jaw tightened. "I came to realize why I could not save this woman. On that night, had I made her life my priority…there would have been a number of times I could have saved her. However, _I did not_. I knew there was a chance of saving her. But I made the capture of Jack the Ripper my priority. I…knew that I would let that chance slip away. I kept that in mind, and let her die." His one visible eye, a deep drowning blue, focused like ice on the rock surface of the headstone. "Even my own relative."

The Undertaker tapped his chin. "Do you regret it?"

"I do not." Ciel stated without hesitation. "Jack the Ripper is gone."

"Are you sure about that?" The office worker for the Undertaker approached. All eyes of the men and child turned to see Abbie approaching, a set of three files tucked to her waist side. "Having no regrets. Life isn't so clean cut like your beloved chess games."

Ciel's sudden grin was nearly cynical. "Queen Victoria's melancholy has been put to rest. I have done my part as her guard dog."

"Victoria, eh?" Undertaker quipped. "I'm not a fan o' hers. She sits herself so high above everyone else, and leaves all the painful, dirty work to the Earl."

Ciel brought his left hand to his face, letting his lips brush something akin to love or fondness over the dark blue stone of his family's ring. "This is the fate my family has always been burdened with. It was passed on to me with _this_ ring."

"The ring seems more like a collar to me." The Undertaker giggled. His fingers danced on the boy's shoulders. "Connecting you to the queen with this chain of fate."

The Earl whipped around, frowning at the Undertaker. "The one that decided I would wear this '_collar_' around my neck…_was me_."

In movement so quick it was more a blur, the Undertaker had the boy caught in his fist by the necktie he wore. The Undertaker's lips were pressed into a thin smile, and one could only wonder what his eyes were saying behind their thick silver veil. "I hope that one day that collar _chokes you_." The slim fingers of his other hand gently brushed over the boy's face, caressing his cheek and jawline in sudden affection. "Otherwise," he mused, "it's just boring."

The Undertaker released the child when Abbie came up behind him, placing one of her own hands on this shoulder, shaking her head that that was enough. He smiled again, turning and taking his shovel. "If something else happens, drop by the shop. For the Earl and his butler," he grinned at Abbie, "my doors are always open!" He cackled as he departed.

The woman sighed, tapping her fingers to her temple- the Undertaker was definitely a wildcard. "I apologize," she turned to the child, "Little Lord. It seems no one can predict his next move… If that is all, I'd best be on my way." She bowed to the Earl, then turned and sent the black butler a polite nod of her head. "If anything else does come up in the underworld, do come by…or at least _call_."

She turned on her heel, marching back up the path and trailing behind her departed boss. All the while, she grumbled how at least the boss didn't always _answer the bloody phone_…

Then, she paused. "By the way…" Abbie glanced at the two remaining behind. "Despite your protests, it was an act of kindness you performed."

* * *

Ciel, in the end, made the same protests when Sebastian agreed to what the Undertaker and Miss Abbie had said. When the boy refused to admit he was even remotely kind, the butler made quips, little stabs, at the boy; his insecurities and potential for _weakness_.

So the boy turned cold, dishing out his reasoning again. But then Sebastian brought up the reason as to _why_ his young master himself did not end the life of his beloved aunt, leading up to why Ciel had stopped him from taking out the Madam.

Ciel Phantomhive's demeanor shifted to something hollow yet very similar to the feel of ice. He enlightened his dark servant to the hesitance and doubt he had witnessed in her eyes. He frowned, eyes narrowed at the grass around them. He made sure the butler knew then and there, that he would not hesitate.

The butler was impressed, knowing full well the game plan that his young master was going to utilize to its fullest potential.

"_This is an order_." The child turned, his one visible eye hardened as he met his servant's red gaze. "You shall never betray me. You shall never leave my side. _No matter what!_"

Sebastian knelt down, knee planted into the earth as he bowed low. "Yes, _my lord_."

Unfortunately for the young Earl Phantomhive, he did not see the full extent of his black servant's growing sneer. And while they made their way back to the carriage, he did not see how the butler's lips did not falter from that same smile.

For even though the one baptized as '_Sebastian Michaelis_' would do nearly anything to prepare his current contract's soul, readying it for the feast it would provide him at the end…

There was and would always be, an exception and loophole to the current long-term order.

* * *

_**Author's Endnote:**_

_Tada! Wow. Longer than the other chapters! However don't expect chapters to always be this long. Sometimes they need to be nice and short, to add suspense, or for filler's sake. However, each plot arc from the manga should reach about three chapters or so. (Some might even be longer!) _

_I know this chapter didn't focus a lot on Abbie. Please bear with me! I'm slowly easing her into the canon story's plotline. Also, I gave a hint at the end of this chapter…sooo… (And the next chapter will pretty much give at least _one _big detail away…)_

_(By the by, check out Loreena McKennit's "Skellig". Where the lyric quote that titles this chapter came from. Don't worry, this song will pop up again and again for chapter titles!)_

_**Next Chapter:**_

_A circus coincidentally departing as children disappear, a moody tiger, and a missing black cat…_


	4. Chapter IV

_Chapter IV! We start the next arch. No, no tigers show up. But the reference will be understood by those who also keep up with the manga~_

* * *

_**Disclaimer:**_

_I own nothing but my OC(s). Everything related to Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso. And all songs quoted/helped to inspire this fanfic are property to their rightful artists. I intend no copyright infringement. (I would suggest the song "Lully, Lullay" by Nightnoise. I do not own the song's title- nope nope! But it has a good feel, I was listening to it a lot this chapter!)_

* * *

**Stay with Me, in the Firelands**

**IV.**

_**Lully, Lullay (Thou Little Tiny Child)**_

* * *

The whistle of a kettle on the stove brought the Undertaker into the back office, his happy smile widening just a bit more at the sight of his office secretary already busy at work. Abbie looked up, nodding at her boss as he made his way to the stove.

"So you finally decided to wake."

The Undertaker grinned, picking up the box of tea leaves to ready for the morning brew. "I just couldn't pull myself from bed, _heehee_."

"Clearly not," Abbie remarked. "Be prepared, word has it the little Earl Phantomhive is back in London."

"Oho?" The Undertaker sat at the other chair at the small dining table. "Tha' means he'll be 'round here for sure. He's never in the city this time o' year."

The woman brought her brown eyes to level out the veiled face of the Undertaker's. "So the Queen has called her puppy, has she?"

"Seems that way."

"…You may be right then, about him coming by."

"And I guarantee this all has to do with the circus that's rolled into town."

Her eyes widened as his smile broadened into a grin. He laughed. "I know you've read the headlines. Missin' children and what have you. The guard dog is immediately going to assume the worst."

Abbie groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Then I guess one of us better prepare something sweet. There have been no bodies matching up to the description of children."

"So you've been looking into it as well." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." She sighed. "Something doesn't sit right."

The Undertaker sighed a little sadly, reclining back in his chair. "I know. However, I do believe it will turn into an interesting show."

* * *

A few hours passed when a familiar child and his butler clothed in almost entirely black came through the shop doors.

"Are you here? Undertaker." Ciel Phantomhive enquired into the dark storefront.

Abbie sighed at her boss's antics, hearing the crash of his little bowling game and noting the displeasure from the boy, and the Undertaker's usual inquiry and laughter. Shaking her head, she prepared the tea, making her way as smoothly as possibly with the tray out to the storefront lobby.

"_Heehee_. Well have a seat. I just baked a cake."

"Only because I _told_ you to."

Three sets of eyes looked to the office doorway, seeing, for once, a familiar woman with an unfamiliar expression akin to a pout. Although it faltered at the startled expressions Ciel and Sebastian both seemed to share. The Undertaker just grinned.  
"The cake has cooled and been iced. It is ready to serve." She enlightened, placing the tray on a larger coffin, pouring out two cups of tea.

* * *

The Undertake hummed thoughtfully. "Children's corpses, eh?"

The butler nodded stiffly, pulling from his coat a pile of documents. "The surface world has not yet found the missing corpses, it seems."

"And in the underworld, children's corpses are an everyday occurrence, _after all_." The Undertaker barked out with a laugh. "Which the Earl knows _veeery well_, doesn't he?"

The boy's jaw tightened. "We've brought you the documents."

The Undertaker peered at the papers thoughtfully. Abbie glanced over his shoulder while she poured another cup of tea for him.

"Are there any children you've '_tidied up_' amongst them?" Ciel enquired of them.

"I _wonder_," the Undertaker glanced between the files, looking up to his employee. "Were they there?" He was grinning like a loon. He turned to the child. "If I saw something _interesting_, I think I'd _remember_."

Abbie began pouring Ciel another cup, brushing off his questioning gaze.

"_A first rate laugh_. If you do _thaaat_,we'll tell you _anything you want_."The Undertaker came up to the child, poking his cheek delicately with one of his long nails. "You understand, _don't you_, _Earl_. You'll have to give me _that_." His grin never wavered.

Ciel grimaced. "Sebastian…"

The butler nodded, albeit he did not appear to be enamored with the idea. "Then- "

The Undertaker heaved a hefty sigh. "You're really going to rely on him _again_?" His laugh grew to sound more like a whine. "I wonder…if the butler isn't here, is the Earl just a child who _can't do anything_?" He sighed again. "Though if it's amusing…_I don't care who it is_."

With his pride on the fragile line, Ciel snapped. "_I'll do it_."

Sebastian was a bit taken aback. "You'll do it?"

The child turned and pointed not only to his butler, but the inconspicuous young woman as well. "Leave. _Don't either of you dare to peek_. That's an order, Sebastian."

Both the butler and the office worker stared, before Michaelis bowed. "…Yes, my lord."

* * *

By the elbow she's been dragged outside. And once the two were safely away from Ciel's impending humiliation, a stale stillness surrounded the two.

She noted Sebastian was clothed in black again. Sebastian noted her dress today was a baby blue with crème satin lace for a framing effect. It still suited her well. Although he'd much rather see her in the full colors of autumn, but he wouldn't admit that aloud, not under current circumstances.

"I can see now." Her musing brought his gaze from her waistline up to her face. Her light hued hair was loosely pulled back, allowing it frame her face. A youthful face, a usually bright face. But yet…

Sebastian raised a thin brow her way.

She laughed hollowly. "I can see why it was him. He is…unlike so many of them. He burns so bright in the shadows, and yet the darkness is where he has decided to stay."

The butler at her side was a bit perplexed. She only knew that by the shift in his eyes. His posture was otherwise neutral and unfazed.

"Don't worry," Abbie looked back to the door. "I'm not after your Little Lord."

"Then why- " Sebastian began quickly, but was silenced by a noise from inside.

Abbie brushed passed her companion, peeking within. Noting the pleasured expression the Undertaker possessed, she beckoned for Sebastian to follow inside.

"_My,_" the Undertaker tittered, "the Earl would go that _far_…"

The butler focused on fussing over the child and his disheveled appearance, throwing in a quip at his expense. Abbie returned to the documents splayed out from before, contemplating the information they possessed.

"_There_," Ciel snapped. "I gave you your reward. Now tell me about the children."

The Undertaker sent a knowing smile up to Abbie. The woman sighed, tossing her gaze to the boy behind her. "There aren't any."

The Earl and his butler froze on the spot.

"None of these children were my clients." The Undertaker slouched over the tabletop. "And I haven't heard any rumors from the underworld companies."

"So in other words," Ciel bit out, "you know _nothing_ about this case."

"That's not it." The Undertaker grinned. "I know that I '_don't know_' anything."

"You deceived me!" The boy accused.

"I didn't deceive you." The Undertaker simpered. "It's a _great_ clue, isn't it?"

"Certainly." All eyes fell to Sebastian. "You two knowing nothing of this case means there's no truth to the idea that the children were murdered by underworld companies."

"If corpses haven't shown up on either the surface or in the underworld, then there's a high probability that the children are still alive." Ciel noted. But his face creased to a displeasured frown. "Does this mean…we've no other choice but to examine this circus firsthand?"

"I'm afraid so," Abbie confirmed, stacking the files into a tidy pile.

"If we've decided," the boy turned his back to the Undertaker and his secretary, "let's go, Sebastian. Contact me if any information surfaces, Undertaker."

"_Earl_."

The young Lord Phantomhive paused in his steps.

The Undertaker flashed the child a wide grin. "Keep your _soul_ safe, _at least_."

"I know that," the boy snapped, and made his way out the door.

The Undertaker cackled. "I _reeeaaally_ wonder, _heehee_."

Abbie stared at her boss with a puzzled look. His last remark to the boy before he made his swift exit intrigued her as to how much the Undertaker was aware of…And how involved he really was…

"_Oh!_"

* * *

"Michaelis! Lord Phantomhive!"

The child Earl and his black butler turned around at Abbie's call, slowing their gait to an abrupt stop as she came running after them.

"Thank goodness!" She laughed. "I caught up to you before you made it too far!"

"Miss Abbie?" Ciel wondered out loud with a puzzled look. "What are you doing? A lady should never chase after a man."

She chuckled a little sheepishly, brushing back a sweep of hair that fell loose from her loosely twirled bun. "I have a small favor to request, actually. Well, that might be overdoing it. I'd like for you to keep an eye out for me."

The butler frowned thoughtfully. He shared a look with his master, and upon receiving the acceptance to the woman's request, enquired of her, "How may we help you, my lady?"

She twirled the loose lock around her middle and forefinger. "I'd appreciate it if you two could keep an eye out for a black cat."

Ciel either did not notice or did not care at the silent blanching splutter coming from his butler. He scoffed. "I do not deal with cats."

"Oh I'm not looking for a retrieval." She grinned impishly. "If you happen to see it, I'd simply appreciate you letting me know."

"Very well then," the child sighed. "However, with the outrageous number of cats that roam these streets, I'm not sure how you expect us to find the silly thing."

Abbie pressed a finger to her lips, winking at the boy. "Oh believe me; you'll recognize him without _any_ trouble."

* * *

The evening fell heavy over the city of London. In the townhouse in his family's name, the squabbling between the Indian prince, Sohma Asman Kadar, and the young Earl Phantomhive resonated tirelessly against the walls. Sebastian Michaelis sighed, shaking his head just slightly at the childish behavior. The servant to the prince, Agni, chuckled sheepishly behind his bandaged right hand. But the sight of the other servant jogged him.

"Oh! Mr. Sebastian, a delivery came today."

The black butler paused abruptly, his brows narrowing as his gaze shifted to Agni. "We weren't expecting any deliveries today…"

Agni smiled kindly. "A lovely young woman brought a cake over. She mentioned something about how the 'Little Lord will find it quite appetizing.'"

"Ahhh," Sohma smiled, approaching the two servants. "Such beauty, I've never seen a specimen like her."

"Such simplicity, but what a beauty," Agni nodded. "The Prince was smitten, he couldn't utter a word!"

"_AGNI!_"

Taking the opportunity, Sebastian excused himself to the kitchen while Ciel made his exit to his room. On the counter, a small parcel sat unobtrusively. He opened the top with quick workings of his hands, finding a perfect little cake placed perfectly within. His mouth quirked just the smallest amount, the hardness of his eyes softening the slightest.

* * *

_**Author's Endnote:**_

_So here we are! A shorter chapter than last time, however I hope it was still enjoyable. We've moved into the '_Noah's Ark Circus_', and with it a new truth will be learned/confirmed. _

_The cat isn't a major character. Just a milestone component in Abbie's history (and a bit of comedy later down the line. It won't appear very often). Development will come soon, bear with me! (I'd recommend listening to the song I mentioned at the beginning. It suits the stressful mood nicely, as well as Ciel's beginning struggle to be strong on his own.) _

_The random ending? I simply thought it'd be cute~ _

_Also! I'm actually tempted to tamper with an alternate universe, where immortal creatures do not exist. I'd still keep Abbie. But the setting would be modern. I've been reading a few fics on here that I found to be very wonderful. And it's giving me some inspiration. (Not to mention the "what-ifs" of Sebastian being human, Undertaker not so devilish in his hobby, and Reapers being real office-by-the-book people. I'm mulling over it for now.)_

_**Next Chapter:**_

_Mayhem ensues when the butler is recruited by the circus. Night falls, and a Reaper shakes up the game. _


End file.
